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Post by speakeroftruths on Jul 13, 2020 22:49:53 GMT -8
[Borivoi]
"Eh? I do not know the word in English. Mead? The mutton at least is most appreciated! Meat! Roots! Good things for a quest well completed!"
He wriggles the bronze plates and chainmail from his coat, setting them down to the side of the booth.
"I need to replace some blood anyway! Ahhh, that's better. Cloth, might not protect like metal. But far more comfortable."
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Post by rosallora on Jul 13, 2020 22:53:08 GMT -8
[Saoirse]
"Mead's a sweet wine type. Hlokk, that to start, THEN somethin' stronger!" She's gone through enough today that she feels she's earned it. "An' a room to MYSELF tonight, thank ye very much now. Mutton! Potatoes, carrots - get some o' them meat pies and some ale for the boys! Darken it up, don't let it be all light an' pissy - ain't that what cha said, Borivoi? Pisswater?" She looks over at the man, then back to Hlokk. "I dunno what they got 'round here far's sweets but I'm wantin' for sweets as well! Sweet bread all covered in honey!"
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Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Jul 13, 2020 23:42:51 GMT -8
|HLOKK|
The noise, the clamor of delight swells in Hlokk's chest, and the blighted feeling in her bosom fades like blood on a shore. Her smile almost splits her face in twain before it wavers in overwhelmed cheer; she stammers for a moment and clears her throat, nodding.
"Yes! Of course..." She sniffs, proud as she palms an eye and sighs, a finger raising up and waving about in a circle for them all, "... this is the first course. I let you choose this one, I will see if I can't put our good Hook to hard work for something fancier." Hlokk nods and wags the finger, almost warningly as she takes a few steps back and moves to talk to Hook.
The exchange is brief, Hook knowing the look and patronage of Hlokk as she brusquely strode up and laid out coin for each desired food. And, of course, to cover the tab she'd set down before her departure.
She exchanges a few quick words; "Salmon... garnished... berries..." There's a vague understanding between the two and each word is punctuated with a set of coin.
She waits for a few moments as the first platter is laid out; a steaming cut of mutton is laid upon a wooden plate, where its juices collect amidst a bed of deep green leaves and soak a few loaves. There's a haphazardly assembled horizontally-cut loaf with either cut having a helping of butter, cinnamon, and sugar glazed over it.
The plate itself is a statement, wider than Hlokk's shoulders, cloak included. The cut of mutton looking weightier than her torso.
Though the trickiest part of picking up the platter was certainly the four steins, and flagon of mead and ale set aside it. It takes a moment of hoisting the plate up with a grunt, and poking about to hook the steins about her fingers, and the flagons on her others, but she's more than capable of accommodating the weight.
Albeit, the soreness of swinging her sword and wrestling with her quarry certainly came to the fore in the moments it took to hoist the first feast over to the table.
There's an unceremonious BANG as the plate hits the table afore the booth, and sizzling grease spatters about; the hidden tableware of forks and knives jostles free and clatters about as Hlokk's attention is set to not spilling the precious mead and ale.
"HERE!" She announces with a huff, blowing a lock of firey red hair out of her face, "Our first meal..."
There's a moment of appreciation for the feast she well could have never seen, which shifts to the faces that helped see her here.
"... I says Saoirse gets first cut; it was a hard choice, and a hard fight to take us there. Her word was good, aye?" She looks to the others for affirmation as she fills up her stein full with bubbling gold mead.
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Post by porkylabrador on Jul 14, 2020 0:32:56 GMT -8
- Kat
The politeness in which the drink was offered was only matched by the breakneck speed in which it was snatched from Ezekiel's paws. The waif's own scarred digits siezed the pewter tankard as though it were the last tangible thing in a world full of smog. As greedily as it was grabbed it was thrown back, wet gulping sounds pervaded in regular abundance from Hawker's throat as a line of foam was drawn through the dirt trapped against her ruddy chin.
"Make merry gents, 'tis a fine day for it after all, hah!" In truth, Kat couldn't believe her luck and conspired in secret to make her 'credible' diagnosis' again... At least if they were followed with free drink.
The huntress curved a sly brow into something resembling curiosity. "Returned eh?" Her voice cooed towards Zeke as her oculi wandered towards the injured purchaser-of-rounds. "You were out there then? Out there and with clinking in your coffers..?" The question was phrased with the same expression one might find a hound watching a roasting chicken wearing. "I took a stroll m'self, ended up on a jolly after a gaggle of moorhens. All I sunk for my troubles was a bounced bonce on a dangerous rock. Ne'er pissing poultry in sight!" The lass shook her fist at invisible birds fluttering in the rafters. "Sounds as though you, Sir, might have had an altogether more..." A pause mid sentence, if only to hiccup. "... Lucrative experience."
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Post by ricarditoreyes on Jul 14, 2020 2:17:41 GMT -8
[Joseph]
Joseph, who was getting his flask filled back up to the brim before the meal was set, turns back quickly as the first course hit the table. He rushes back, with a wild determination not too different than that of the hungry rabid dogs they had dealt with earlier. Fair enough, considering how bloodied he got, that he'd want to fill his belly with as much drink and fancy foods as he'd had in a while. He was fairly certain the others felt the same. They had all given their all, and had a surprising amount of discipline in working with what little supplies they were able to afford for the expedition.
And boy, did it pay off.
"Hm.." he says, slightly disgruntled. "Yeah, s'pose you have a point. It was nice to know where we were goin'. Can't imagine runnin' circles round those woods lookin' for our next fight."
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Post by speakeroftruths on Jul 14, 2020 3:00:55 GMT -8
[Borivoi]
The Bohemian soldier laughs heartily at the veritable feast already before the party with the promise of more to come, and seizes one of the mugs. He takes a hearty swig, the sweet liquor mingling with his whiskers without ceremony, and nods joyfully.
"First meal! I like the sound of this. Aye! First cut to our guide. A new leaf turned, and new friends made perhaps? Now be swift with the cut, for I have need of vittles sweeter than hard tack and dried meat!"
He sets his own plate up, waiting eagerly for his turn at the food.
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Post by rosallora on Jul 14, 2020 6:41:39 GMT -8
[Saoirse]
She looks to her companions, her mouth twitching at Hlokk's insistence that she be the one to have the first bite. Her mouth waters at the smell of it all - the gleam of mutton, the bread with cinnamon and sugar, the mead that flows and fills her cup up, and again if she took a swig! But she doesn't yet, fingers twitching in anticipation.
She takes one of the forks from the table, that had clattered there when the massive tray was sat down, and pierces into the piece of meat. It nearly falls off the bone as she pries it away. The chunk is held aloft for a moment. "To our victory then!" And she stuffs her face as full as it would get, not bothering to cut the thing up and put it on her plate. This was HER mutton! She deserved it.
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Post by EloHim on Jul 14, 2020 9:06:56 GMT -8
[Elorit/ ? ? ?]
"Fair enough. Happy hunting, dear Darrio!"- he rises and steps away from the table. Looking about, he ignores the ruckus of the table somewhat familiar faces...was he supposed to do something there? The memory seemed blurry, and for some reason...aversion settled in. Perhaps he should seek some other table...and he finds it. He settles in on a stool at the lonely table in the corner and closes his eye, trying to at least half-block out the world. In the tints of red and amber, everything seemed...more clear and calm.
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Post by lunardusters on Jul 14, 2020 9:13:22 GMT -8
The door to the tavern opens, now, a small girl shuffling in. A little too young to be here by most standards, but those standards are currently black-out drunk, so it's alright.
Those two, they were standing right outside this place. There's something here.
Pulling her hood up, eavesdropping, trying to listen in for anything of interest.
She's not looking at faces, and, thus, hasn't seen him yet.
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Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Jul 14, 2020 11:32:46 GMT -8
|HLOKK|
"HAHA! SKÁLDR!!" Hlokk hoists up her stein in cheers to the hearty bite from Saoirse, dropping the mead to her lips to a gluttonous chug that drains half the heavy cup. The warm glow and bubbly fuzz blurring her mind, thoroughly purging her with the spirit as she slams the stein down; only halfly on accident, as ever.
"Mmm! And... on the measure of cuts, there is still the loot we found." Hlokk made some room on the table as she produced their travelling pack and rattled out the two sets of herbs bound in a dainty sack, four bandages (of which one still held some cobwebs and perhaps some small spiders skittering away), the small sack of 135 gold pieces, with two gold rings fastened by the leather thong that clasped the sack shut, a compass, and a singular glittering sapphire.
Hlokk is slow in organizing the loot out, careful not to knock anyone's cup over,
"I think... we keep an ear out for any expeditions heading out and gift the herbs and bandages to them." her tone is serious, either from focus or genuine consideration it's not clear. But she clears her throat and her smile broadens again,
"But the rest... is ours." She chuckles happily, her eyes set on the sapphire.
"My treasure was in finding glory, vengeance, and comrades to my shieldwall." Hlokk closes her eyes and nods as she plants a hand on Saoirse and Borovoi, nodding to Joseph just out of reach.
"If I counted the coins right, that's 40 for each of you." She hums, and nods to the sapphire, "I do not know how much a sapphire will sell here, but there is a gypsy who might discern a price... maybe we can all go together, later, and see what we get?"
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Post by ricarditoreyes on Jul 14, 2020 13:27:10 GMT -8
[Joseph]
It was a nice feeling. For once, he could drink without the fear of running his pockets dry. It was only a few days ago that he was still drinking alone, with a heavy feeling in his heart that he had forgotten his meaning and perhaps even debates with himself regarding leaving the Hamlet. Those feelings now felt so far in the past. Now, he drank with a singular purpose, to celebrate his and his companions heroic deeds, as well as to celebrate filling their pockets with more gold than he had ever imagined earning.
He downs his ale alongside his new friends as the feast had finally begun. His mind was only pulled back from the glorious drunken bliss at the mention of their loot. "Oh yeah, don't reckon we can do much with the leftover supplies," he says, nodding in agreement. "Sapphire don't look too shabby. Could fetch us a decent bit o' gold. I'll tag along later and see what it's worth. For now, though, we ought to finish this lovely meal!" he says, as he looks towards the delicacies. Saliva had already begun filling his mouth, ready to digest whatever fancy foods would be thrown in hastily.
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Post by rosallora on Jul 14, 2020 16:22:59 GMT -8
[Saoirse]
"Should save it up for crownin' the princess," she remarks offhand, filling her mouth again with a forkful of carrot. It falls apart in her mouth, sweet and tender. "Start arrangin' a li'l collection. Startin' with that."
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Post by Kidney on Jul 14, 2020 16:59:38 GMT -8
- Kat The politeness in which the drink was offered was only matched by the breakneck speed in which it was snatched from Ezekiel's paws. The waif's own scarred digits siezed the pewter tankard as though it were the last tangible thing in a world full of smog. As greedily as it was grabbed it was thrown back, wet gulping sounds pervaded in regular abundance from Hawker's throat as a line of foam was drawn through the dirt trapped against her ruddy chin. "Make merry gents, 'tis a fine day for it after all, hah!" In truth, Kat couldn't believe her luck and conspired in secret to make her 'credible' diagnosis' again... At least if they were followed with free drink. The huntress curved a sly brow into something resembling curiosity. "Returned eh?" Her voice cooed towards Zeke as her oculi wandered towards the injured purchaser-of-rounds. "You were out there then? Out there and with clinking in your coffers..?" The question was phrased with the same expression one might find a hound watching a roasting chicken wearing. "I took a stroll m'self, ended up on a jolly after a gaggle of moorhens. All I sunk for my troubles was a bounced bonce on a dangerous rock. Ne'er pissing poultry in sight!" The lass shook her fist at invisible birds fluttering in the rafters. "Sounds as though you, Sir, might have had an altogether more..." A pause mid sentence, if only to hiccup. "... Lucrative experience."
"We first trekked into a dark cave..." He said, painting the picture with his hand and his pint, taking a long draft from it. "And saw a pool full...of eyeless fish!" |
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Post by EloHim on Jul 15, 2020 11:30:43 GMT -8
[Elorit/ ? ? ?]
Sitting in his meditative state in the corner of the tavern, Elorit flinches. Something familiar enters the peripheral of his senses. Something familiar… something...
"...but if we ourselves are to suffer deception...our hands are no longer tied..."
Impossible. Why here? Why now? Why...? The disbelief washes him away into the depths of nothingness.
Something changed. Masks have placed them here, for a new pantomime. The only question was...what is he gonna do about it?
“...Sonya?” - he calls out...not loud enough so the whole tavern could hear it. Not loud enough at all.
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Post by lunardusters on Jul 15, 2020 12:35:04 GMT -8
"Everything that limits us exists only in the mind."
..
The voice echoing in her memories lapses with the one in the physical world.
"... Himarius?"
Looking up to make eye contact with.. him. A man she would've thought long dead, perhaps even fictional. Of course, of course fate wasn't done with them - the Thespians outside basically stated that. Elorit Himarius, though broken, battered, and.. seemingly cursed? Sits a few feet away from her.
She moves to him, removing her hood and shoving some drunkard aside.
After a brief pause, she tilts her head, cracking a coy smile.
"You look like Hell."
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